


Hatred

by ChangedMan02



Category: Original Work
Genre: Abuse, Execution, World War II, original - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-19
Updated: 2020-03-19
Packaged: 2021-02-23 09:08:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,262
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23209054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ChangedMan02/pseuds/ChangedMan02
Summary: The day was the first day of September, 1939. A date that will live shrouded in infamy among the minds of the Polish people.Ulsula Lisowski was an ordinary girl at the outbreak of the war. But little did she know that her life would be cut short in three years. During that time, however, she would experience things she never thought imaginable. In those three years, she would live through the harsh effects of the worst human emotion: Hate.
Kudos: 1





	Hatred

The day was the first day of September, 1939. A date that will live shrouded in infamy among the minds of the Polish people.  
Ulsula Lisowski was an ordinary girl at the outbreak of the war. But little did she know that her life would be cut short in three years. During that time, however, she would experience things she never thought imaginable. In those three years, she would live through the harsh effects of the worst human emotion: Hate.

The Polish army’s defensive lines crumbled under the unexpected speed and ferocity of the German Army, half of the country falling under the iron fist of the Fascist Reich within the coming weeks. Warsaw, the country’s capital, was bombarded almost daily, leveling even the tallest buildings to dust. Then, on September the seventeenth, Joseph Stalin’s Red Army swept through Poland’s eastern borders, wreaking havoc among the exhausted Polish army.  
After days of shelling the city of Warsaw, the German forces bombarded the city with an intensity never before felt by the inhabitants on September the twenty-first. Ulsula was already accustomed to the orchestra of explosions as shells and bombs fell like raindrops from the sky... 

The day was September the twenty-fifth, 1939. Ulsula rubbed her eyes as she woke up from another almost-sleepless night. She sat on the broken sidewalk, letting her eyes adjust to the clarity of the orange sky as the sun rose up. For her, the shelling was now almost bearable.

She had worn the same white dress for almost a full week, which was now tattered and stained with dirt and dust. Her brown hair was a mess, her favorite red shoes were all worn out, and the thick, olive colored blanket she had used since the first days of bombings was basically disintegrating in her very hands. Ulsula’s pale skin was now gray and brown because of the lack of showers and abundance of dirt, and her legs, arms and hands were covered in cuts and bruises.  
Ulsula tied what was left of her blanket around her neck as if it was a cape, and started to walk aimlessly around the ruined city. She would often sigh when she passed by a mound of rubble that once was a bakery, or the town library, or her old school, or the old market…

In her walk, she came across a sight which has now become an hourly occurrence. A group of firefighters were pulling out the remains of a family that was trapped under a pile of metal beams and concrete blocks. Ulsula remembered when she first saw a badly mutilated corpse when the bombs first fell. At first, she was disgusted, but had grown to tolerate the hideous sight and the horrible stench.  
She then walked towards the outskirts of Warsaw, where the buildings were the most damaged, and huge clouds of smoke covered the sky. The incongruous rhythm of the gunfire would drown the wailing of a grieving mother, or the crying of a child. She could not manage the grim atmosphere and turned away back into the city.

A few moments later, Ulsula looked back at the now bright blue sky, and noticed a large cluster of silver dots moving rapidly towards her. She squinted to try and identify what she was seeing. In a moment, she felt a powerful shiver run down her spine as she noticed what the dots were: they were planes. It was not a squadron of slow bombers, but hundreds of the fearsome Stuka dive-bombers. Within seconds, the planes’ screeching siren echoed throughout the skies above and the streets below.  
Ulsula dropped to the ground, covering her head with her hands and arms. She trembled and whimpered as she heard the high-pitched whistles, followed by explosions and the vibrations of collapsing buildings all around her. She also heard the Stukas’ roaring motors zoom by her as the pilots flew their planes dangerously low to the ground. Small pebbles would land on her as a bomb detonated a few meters away from her, making the girl’s pulse increase drastically. She hyperventilated as a house blew into a thousand pieces, the debris landing near her and a cloud of dust covered the street. 

The terrified girl opened her eyes after the dust had settled. A brief period of silence followed as the squadron veered away, flying into the horizon. She untied the blanket off her neck and ran towards her mother’s field hospital.  
After a few minutes’ sprint, Ulsula arrived at the old bus station, which was converted into a make-shift field hospital. It was in this street, however, that there was an overwhelming number of cadavers, which were stacked in endless mounds. Nurses were abundant there, so were the injured soldiers and civilians, some barely clinging on to life. 

She entered the rowdy building, finding her mother assisting a doctor, tending an injured soldier’s hand. Ulsula immediately ran towards her, jumping onto into her arms, crying. She dug her face in her mother’s chest as metal scalps and syringes fell to the floor. The tired nurse wrapped her arms around her daughter’s head.

She brushed Ulsula’s hair and caressed the shattered girl, whispering that everything would be alright. For Ulsula, the sounds around her died out, only focusing on her mother’s soft tone in which she spoke. Still, the rest of the nurses, doctors, soldiers and civilians in the Warsaw could hear the cacophony of war as four-hundred Stuka planes mercilessly bombed the city, setting it ablaze…  
It was now September the twenty-seventh, 1939. Ulsula and her mother attended an injured soldier’s wound. She disinfected it passing a cotton swab with alcohol; her mother stitched the wound. Then they proceeded to wrap the man’s leg with a long, white bandage. After finishing, Ulsula wiped the blood off her hands with a piece of cloth, while her mother washed her hands in a bucket. 

\- “Mum, do you think Warsaw can hold much longer?”- Ulsula asked her mother in a soft, sad tone. 

The nurse did not answer. Instead, she sighed loudly and shook her head, before sniffling. Ulsula walked up to her mother, who was now crying, and kissed her forehead. The woman hugged the girl, returning the gesture. During the time they remained together, Ulsula heard her mother whisper ¬ ‘Everything is lost’ over and over.  
Suddenly, a pair of Polish soldiers barged into the station, warning of the German forces that had breached Warsaw’s defenses and yelling desperate orders to disperse the wounded. Amid the ruckus, Ulsula’s mother stood up tugged her daughter to the entrance at the lobby. 

“Run, my child!” - she said to Ulsula -Go, quickly! Before the Fascist invaders kills us on the spot.”  
“But mum, what about you?”- The young girl sobbed. –“I don’t want to be alone again!”-  
“I’ll manage, my dear. Now hurry and go to the Synagogue! I’ll see you on the other side sooner or later.”-  
“Promise me you’ll come back alive, mama.”  
“I will. I will.”

The nurse kissed her daughter goodbye before inching back into the station. The girl now ran down the street, but unknowingly towards the battlefield. She hid behind a car after hearing gunshots close to her. From there, she could hear the voices of the enemy. 

‘Damn it. they must be close.’- Ulsula said to herself, analyzing the unknown language of the nearby enemy.

She peaked through one of the car’s broken windows, only to see three Polish soldiers die under a storm of bullets. Soon, more Polish soldiers crossed the street, revealing the little cover they had inside a building, starting a ferocious firefight.  
Ulsula quickly dropped to the ground as bullets bounced off the metal frame of the vehicle beside her. Painful screams echoed across the street as the brave soldiers fell one by one, dying for their country. After a few minutes, the gunshots died down; only an occasional shot was heard when the fearsome Wehrmacht soldiers finished off the agonizing men who laid on the ground.  
She began to whimper and her eyes got watery. She covered her ears and was startled every time a rifle was fired. She was scared, confused, and desperate. She wanted to escape from the city, which was now comparable to hell on Earth.  
As she heard the voices alien voices evermore closer, Ulsula panicked dashed back across the street, trying to get back to the police station as fast as she could.  
During her sprint, she dodged incoming bullets, some whizzing by her face, others barely missing her legs and feet, others ricocheted off the ground, making small clouds as the projectiles landed.  
After what felt like an eternity, she arrived at the lobby of the now near desolate building. Ulsula quietly walked down one of the isles, the one that led to the room where the critically injured would be kept. She peaked slowly into the room, finding her mother caressing an injured man left behind.

“Mother?”- she asked quietly as she stepped into the familiar room.  
“Ulsula! What in Earth are you doing in here?”- the nurse asked with much concern.  
“Oh, I’m so sorry mama!’- Ulsula said as she walked towards her mother, a tear running down her cheek. –“The Germans were so close and-”  
Suddenly, twenty soldiers stormed into the building, the gunshots echoing across the different isles and rooms. The women tried to escape, but the German soldiers secured the first floor. Both of them shrieked in terror as ten tall, slender men, wielding rifles entered the room. 

“Get down!”- one of the Germans yelled.  
“Sargent, come over here! We’ve got ourselves some nurses.”- another soldier called.  
A young, good-looking soldier entered the room. Unlike the rest of the men, he wore different shoulder pads, indicating his higher rank. His left eye was covered by a white eyepatch which was drenched in blood.  
-‘My, my, what beautiful ladies we’ve got here.’- the Sargent said.

He took out his Luger pistol and aimed it at one of the injured Polish, shooting him in the chest three times. As the cloud of blood settled down, the Captain had a sadistic grin stretched across his face. His men followed suit, killing the rest of the wounded inside of the room. 

“You Monster!”- Ulsula’s mother cried as blood splattered on her. –“You’re a cold blooded murderer!” 

‘How does it taste?’- He asked the nurse as he stuck the barrel of his pistol into her mouth, her eyes opening wide in surprise. – “How does the gunpowder of the bullet that killed the-”  
“He was a husband, her wife waiting for him near Lodz!”- The nurse managed to say with the pistol in her mouth.  
“He was part of a plague that needs to be eradicated and cast-out of this world!”- The Sargent said as he ripped the nurse’s dress open, revealing her chest and a golden chain with a star of David. One of the soldiers in the room then unbuttoned the first victim of the Sargent, revealing another chain with a star of David.  
-“See? You are all part of the plague!”- He yelled to Ulsula’s mother, who was now grabbed by two soldiers, one at each arm.

Without any warning, he shot the woman in the head, bathing Ulsula in her mother’s blood. She screamed in terror as the men threw the limp body to the floor and approached her. They grabbed the girl in the same manner as they did with her now deceased mother and the Sargent walked towards her. 

“Hush, hush, you squishy bug. You’re suffering will soon end.”- The man said as he brushed Ulsula’s blood-soaked hair, removing the pieces of skull out of it.

“What do we do with the Jewish swine, Captain?”- A Corporal asked.  
-“Leave her… if she doesn’t get crushed by any rubble she’ll eventually die of hunger.”- He responded coldly, moving out of the room, signaling four men to go with him. 

Soon, gunshots were heard from the second floor of the station. The Corporal leaned against the wall next to the entrance to the room, overlooking both his section and the hallway. Though he did nothing there, one of his men did.

As the soldiers scavenged for any supplies and searched for any hidden soldiers, a young, fanatic private proceeded to torment Ulsula in diverse ways. He would insult and spit at her before beating her fiercely. None of the soldiers even cast a glance at the affair going between the private and the girl. Instead of killing her, they let her suffer a fate worse than death.

Ulsula laid a whimpering wreck on the floor. She was pulled by her hair and forced to stand up and received a breathtaking blow in the stomach. Ulsula collapsed to the floor and was kicked several times again, before being picked by the Corporal, who threw her in an alleyway, before passing out. 

On the early hours of the twenty-eight of September, the girl regained conciseness. She closed her legs and whimpered as the memories of the day before played again and again in her mind. As Ulsula got up, a pair of German soldiers saw her. As they approached, she closed her eyes, waiting for death to come. But instead she was held at gun point by one of them as the other approached her. After they verified that Ulsula was unarmed, the soldiers grabbed her by the arms and dragged the half dead child across the alley, reaching a crowded courtyard. A handful of soldiers organized captive Poles into two lines, loading them into trucks. The dawn sun was starting to rise when Ulsula was unloaded into a make-shift POW camp. Its perimeter was marked by the tall barbed wire fences that were placed along a couple of blocks; its buildings flattened by the intense bombardments from the previous weeks. She would live there for a year, sleeping among corpses and rats that infested the suburb streets, her best nights being those where she managed to squeeze inside one of the few overcrowded buildings that remained standing. 

By the time the calendar marked October of 1940, things had changed rapidly. Hundreds died of hunger or disease each day, food was rationed, and all Jews were always to wear a yellow star of David for identification purposes. On the 16th, Ulsula, along with another 400,000 Poles and other undesirables were relocated to the newly established Warsaw Ghetto near the city center. Living conditions did not changed much, for necessities such as food and water were barely available and everybody had to live in crowded apartments, sometimes as much as twenty living together in a room for four. Many suffocated in their sleep, others died of heat strokes in those infernal buildings. The dense concentration inside those three squared kilometers made it a perfect breeding ground for disease…

During 1941, life in the ghetto got more and more violent. Robberies, rapes and fistfights were frequent. At times, small insurrections also took place. But perhaps what struck fear more into Ulsula’s heart were the sudden deportations and executions. German soldiers entered the ghetto at random and visited certain areas per visit. They searched every building, evicting those living there and executed those who were caught with contraband, hiding or those deemed unfit for labor. These happened at random, the only sign signaling one were the thunderous marching of soldiers that echoed across each street and alleyway…

It was a hot night of June 1942. Ulsula was awoken by the distant and distinct clap of soldiers’ boots. She woke up her room mates, warning them of the incoming search party. Seventeen people scrambled to their usual hiding places. Some hid under the floorboards, others inside cabinets, or inside mattresses. Ulsula hurried to her agreed hiding spot: an old piano in the apartment living room. Her hands shook violently as she closed the lid, her pulse beating rapidly. 

From inside the instrument she heard the smashing of doors, the sounds of whistles being blown; the shrieks and sobs of those being thrown out to the streets; the muffled gunshots coming from other buildings. Ulsula felt her heart sink when she heard heavy footsteps coming up the stairs. She covered her mouth as the door was kicked open and Germans entered, yelling orders in their foreign tongue. She held her breath as she felt the soldiers go pass the piano and enter each room. By the footsteps alone she guessed there were at least ten men inside. 

It was not long before sudden cries were snuffed out by gunshots started inside the apartment. The soldiers seemed to shoot everywhere. Every suspicious hiding spot was gunned down. Every closet door, every cabinet, every box, mattress and squeaky floorboard.  
A soldier passed by the piano. He took a chair and lifted the fallboard, exposing the worn keys. 

“What are you doing, Kaufman?” – One soldier asked.  
“Are you blind, man?” – Kaufman responded rudely. – “I am going to play Mozart, Meyer! This place needs a lighter ambiance, you know.”  
“You got to be fucking kidding me…” – Meyer protested. – “Get off the damn piano! If the Sarge sees you slacking off he’s gonna have you sent you to the Ostfront!”  
“Scheiße!” – Kaufman exclaimed. – “You’re right…”

After a few minutes of searching and shooting, the soldiers left and proceeded to do the same in the following floors. Ulsula remained inside the piano, not daring to move a muscle. The girl covered her mouth with both hands as tears ran down her cheeks, sobbing quietly. 

After three, almost eternal hours, the cacophony had died down. Ulsula decided to peak through the lid. She saw nor heard anybody, so she decided sneak out. She was malnourished and weak and couldn’t hold the lid for much longer. It fell on her as she slid out causing her to land on the keys and make a loud noise. She froze where she landed when she heard footsteps approaching. A soldier peaked into the apartment to investigate

“Jewish whore!” – He yelled as he aimed his machine-pistol at Ulsula.  
“Please! Don’t shoot me!” – Ulaula begged as she kneeled at his feet.  
“Get up!” – He ordered as he pulled the thin girl by her hair. 

The German pulled her out of the apartment building and onto the streets. He handed the girl to a pair of soldiers who grabbed her each by one arm and dragged the girl into a nearby alleyway. As she was dragged, the world around her seemed to go evermore slower with each step. She looked to the left. Another platoon unloaded from a column of trucks. To her right, two teens at gunpoint stacked bodies on the sidewalk. The bullet-ridden corpses reminded her of September of ’39. Of the Polish soldiers that died defending each street. Of the humiliating beating. Of her mother…

She was placed against a blood-soaked wall and riddled with bullet holes, and at the other side were German soldiers with a rifle at their side. By this time, Ulsula wished for death to come, as it was an escape from the miserable world in which she now lived. Out of the other men, women and children, who pled for forgiveness and mercy, the girl was the only one who remained calm. As her feeble legs trembled under her own weight, Ulsula painfully moved her head to stare at the moon, which shone brightly that night. 

\- “Eins!”- a German officer yelled at the men, who readied their firearms.  
\- “Zwei!”-

Ulsula smiled as she stared at the moon.

-“Drei!”-

“See you at the other side, mother.”


End file.
